Altered Destinies
by Sad Mudokon
Summary: MML- Set deep within an alternate reality, Megaman Trigger is the hunted enemy, a dark figure shadowing old friend and new foe alike. some swearing, mechanical gore and a polarized Megaman Voulnutt
1. Default Chapter

Hello 'dere. First thing I'd like to say is- HA! This is actually and officially a Megaman Legends Fic! Ha! Perhaps more hated than Iris herself! So HA! HA ha ha'cch *cough*  
  
Well anyway, love it or hate it, this IS a MML story. Yes this is a strange story and no, none of the char's are really mine, but rip anything off from here and I'll track you down and there will be much with the beating about the head and shoulders with large blunt objects. All things belong to their respective owners, such as Capcom and da like, and if you rip THEM off the violence will be terrible. And don't bother asking what the heck is wrong with my head, because brother (sister? other?) I don't have an answer for ya. Babu. But yer free to come over and laugh and throw rotten vegetable matter at sad_mudokon@hotmail.com -just keep the flames toasty and low. We don't need a bonfire here people.  
  
Megaman Legends: Altered Destinies  
  
Chapter 1: premeditated experimentation, and the disappointment of fair-weather friends  
  
  
The sun shone down, blazing through the clear morning air; glorious in the early morning chill. The wind moved ever so slowly, rippling across the waving grass and flowing around the unknown figure standing still and lifeless under the shade of the tree. Leaning casually against the rough bark, he stood, face to the sky; the faint, jovial little flicker of wind teased at him, twirling the windblown locks of mouse brown hair into a comical halo around his face and sliding gently over the lacquer surface of his tarnished black armor. Shifting a little, he let his eyes slide away from the sky for the briefest of moments, abandoning his musing contemplation to glance down at the dark glint of it's surface. The sun glittered feebly, struggling to escape the black, oily stain across the dull metal. Slowly running a small, hand over the black sheen, he played a couple of fingers across the surface; not a mark of the old blue dared shine through. How it glowed. How it shone... it really was quite pretty. Stylish too. Shading his eyes from the blaring sun, he faced into the wind, slowly surveying the pristine landscape, glancing around for the darkened hull of a- there it is...  
  
Shaded in the leaning nine o'clock shadow of a heavy pine, the squat Leopardo battle tank sat in the middle of the field, engine idling. Waves of exhaust ripple the air gently with hot fumes...   
  
Facing away from him, the tank sat, surveying the grassy swath of ground in front of it. Unaware...   
  
The dark form suddenly smiled... it wasn't a very nice smile. Pushing off from the tree in a faint pattering rain of pine needles, he moved towards the tank, his steps languid, like those of a stalking cat; confident, unconcerned. His thoughts drifted briefly as he walked, stalking along their own dark paths for the briefest of moments... was this what he was supposed to be? Was this part of it? Was he like this... was this really what he was? Pushing the errant musings aside, he continued onwards, letting the thoughts drift from his head as he surveyed the situation. The sensors would never pick him up, not from this angle... Narrowing his eyes, he slid silently forward, approaching the boxy back plating, closer and closer, till he was almost under the tank...  
  
The rich black liquid steamed faintly as it poured from the meticulously polished thermos; the light glinting through it carried a strange, faintly disturbing color, the odd oily tint of too-old coffee. Dejectedly swirling the black aromatic stuff in the ceramic mug, the servbot sipped delicately at his rancid black coffee as he listened to he inspiring tones of Miss Tron's heated screaming tearing into someone or other over the tinny, disjointed tones of the radio. Sighing, he leaned forward, the chair making odd little squeaking noises as he retrieved the sugar container from the console before him, belatedly swatting a few grains from the metal with a reticent pincer. Grinding the spoon into the white stuff, he dolled another spoonful of sugar into the liquid (sixth scoop), swirling it gently till it had melted in, his face musing (as musing as a servbot's could conceivably be) and leaned back, letting out a long sigh...   
  
~It might not help me remember. It was insane, and it was damn dangerous... but hey, it was fun...~ Smiling, Megaman shimmied a little farther under the tank. The grass beneath him smeared against his shoulder plates as he crushed it under his considerable weight, further soiling the black stain of his armor. The manic grin flared again as his hands found a panel, silently sliding it out of the way. ~I needed a distraction anyway...take my mind off things for a moment... a nice, relaxing activity to occupy me...~ grunting and straining, he shifted, forcing the end of his Mega buster into some very delicate wiring in the bowels of the tank, and let his eyes slide closed as the plasma began to gather...  
  
The first jarring impact threw the little servbot around in his seat, tossing him bodily against the seat belt as the entire tank rocked with the first jarring explosion. Pincers fumbling, the mug tumbled free as he unclipped himself- his head met the command console with a horrid clanging crunch as the entire tank buckled under another blast. Eyes winced closed, he rubbed belatedly at the chip marring his facial paint, whimpering slightly in confusion. Weaving unsteadily as his vehicle quivered and shook, he made his way to the hatch, stumbling and leaning on the bulkheads and walls, a migraine already rooting itself firmly in his head...  
  
  
  
Light. A horrible booming explosion and a sickening sense of vertigo tore haywire through the servbot's circuits as a startled wail tore itself from his throat. The sky danced with the ground, a waltz never-ending, each filling his vision as he flipped... he had a brief moment to wonder at the happenings that seemed to be going on around him as, below him, the grass shone with a crystalline perfection. Suddenly equilibrium became descent and the stalks rushed towards him, reached up to meet him, striking him punishingly in the face like a green fist.   
  
~Oookay now.. I don't know precisely where I am but whoever just hit me with that train is REALLY gonna regret it...~ Small sounds leaked from the back of his throat as he lay there, his eyes firmly pressed closed as if no force on earth could convince them that perhaps looking around might be a bit of a good idea right now. Indistinguishable creaking buzzes of pain and broken machinery came out in one very unhappy groan as he shifted, his titanium body insisting that yes, he had indeed fallen through the crust of the earth and into some unknown hell. Shaking loose bits of grass and soil, the pulled himself to his feet, weaving and unsteady. Limbs shaking and malfunctioning, the servbot glanced up, one eye sporting a hairline crack right across the 'cornea'... ~great. blind and achy. Tanks Miss Tron can stand losing but she's really gonna tear into me about the contact lenses...oww. I didn't know EVERYTHING could hurt all at once...~ Unsteady and sick, he doubles over, pincers on his knees, breath choking in his metallic throat...   
  
"I love fireworks first thing in the morning, don't you? ...not so impressive during the daylight hours but the smell of explosives sure wakes a fellow up in the morning..." Snapping his head up, the servbot froze, his face caught in a mask of horror. The black armored figure allowed himself a none too nice smile, his face covered in streaks of thick black oil, shining like blood in the sun... "OhmygodI'mgonnaDIE- MISS TRON!!! HEEIIII!!!!!"  
  
Megaman laughed, his voice high and amused as he saw the little robot charge blindly away... A deep, unpleasant snicker rose in his throat as he followed behind it, slipping up beside it, easily matching the pathetic pace of the scrambling, short limbed little bot. Pacing it like a predator, he drew back his arm... his fist clenching. "Oh do stay for a bit of a chat... it's so nice to get aquainted, and on suuuuch a nice day too..."   
  
The fist caught it in the jaw, rocking the head back as it fell, flopping helplessly a few times like a well kicked can, before rolling to rest against a hill. Megaman pounced, lunging closer, his foot flashing out in a black blur.  
  
His foot snapped out, slamming solidly into the servbot's stomach, the little form curling around his armored shoe as he drove it brutally into the bright, cheery blue metal of the torso. The servbot gasped, near crying, the eyes wild as it heaved and sputtered, pulling itself to it's feet, making little distressing noises as it limped wretchedly away.  
  
Megaman snickered, his eyes lit up with the game. He paced the small, frantic little robot, booting it around like a football. Finding a nearby tree, he happily set to work, seeing just how much of the servbot's face paint job he could scuff off on the hard bark, holding the muffled wailing little machine in both arms as he pushed as hard as he can. Struggling, the servbot wrenched itself out of his grasp, gasping as it hauled itself up onto a lower branch and out of reach, breath heaving.  
  
Growling in annoyance, Megaman stalked around the tree, eyeing his prey with growing frustration. Hurrumphing, he ground his teeth, leaning against the trunk of the tree and looking up into the gloom of the branches. "Come on down little one... you're spoiling the fun so..."  
  
Only harsh, choked panting, almost weeping, answered his call.  
"Oh come on now... we were having such a good time. Sure you won't come down? Final warning..."  
  
"Go... to- h-hell."  
  
"!!-Why you little bastard..." Lips tight, he shook, his face carved deep with repugnant malice. Staring, he pursed his lips- then abruptly laughed. It wasn't a very nice laugh.   
  
The first blast tore through the main two thirds of the trunk, the wood groaning in vegetable agony as the entire tree began to buckle and shake. The eerie, insane laughter continued, almost jovially, as he simply began blasting the tree to hot burning splinters, the canopy rapidly disintegrating under the deluge of hot plasma... At the cracking destruction of a particularly large limb, the small cheery colored form plummeted from the needlelike foliage, impacting the ground with a harsh, faintly reverberating clangor.   
  
Trapped under the smoking remains of a branch half again the thickness of its body, it lay there, near tears as it's little pincers dug furloughs in the dirt. Struggling weakly, it didn't respond as Megaman approached it, kicking the wood free and planting his foot securely on the small robot's back, grinding it into the turf with preoccupied malice.  
  
Megaman couldn't help the yawn came over him. Stretching a little, he sighted the sun, looking down at the shaking little form, half huddled under the punishing weight of his foot. "Whoop. Time's winding down, the morning falters into noon. The game has been fun. But like all things this game must end. And so, I'm afraid, must you..."   
  
Reaching the grounded servbot, he bent, one hand caressing almost gently against it's shoulder as his other arm rises, firmly setting the business end of his buster gun to the little bot's head.   
  
Feeling half dead, he hung limply in his captive's grip. The majority of his visual capacity gone, he barely knew where he was, a faint, warbling whimper fluttering in his throat. Massive, spreading cracks covered the glass enhancements of his eyes, blinding him. Long scrapes of shining metal glaring through the paint of his face like open wounds, he shook, turning blindly towards the brief pressure against his head. As the object settled almost comfortably against his forehead, he gasped faintly, feeling the first flickering tracers of warmth...  
  
The plasma burst blinded it, obliterating the already heavily damaged corrective contact plates and burning out all the radiation sensors within the main corneas of the eyes. The glass blew out faintly, shattering in disturbing little hairline cracks. The blast washed across the servbot's face, blasting and mildly melting the titanium plating along the left side and tearing out a panel on it's shoulder. The burning plasma tore down the throat- allowing Megaman the convenience of not hearing the servbot scream.  
  
It was still functioning. Megaman blinked, tilting his head, turning the mangled little bot this way and that with his blackened hand in almost childlike wonder... the mangled little body sucked in another breath, almost as if to helpfully confirm the fact to him. oh well. Running a hand through his mussed brown hair, he trailed oil and robotic circulatory fluids across his scalp, pausing a moment to contemplate his next actions. Surveying the wrecked little servbot for a moment, he paused, bracing it briefly against the boll of the ruined, smoking tree.   
  
Working his fingers briefly along his side, he caressed the little seam along the left side of the little, scuffed up body, digging his fingers into the metal a little as he muttered. "There there now... just calm down... you're going to help out uncle Megaman, isn't that nice?" Straining, he tensed, his fingers digging into the loose panel on the servbot's side. Tearing the little bot open, he ripped off the front panel of it's body, slipping a few fingers inside the gaping wiring of the shuddering little thing and worked free a handful of energy capsules. Breaking one open on his boot, he smeared the faintly glowing orange energy across his face, the tingling energy soothing the faintly niggling burns garnered during the explosion. Tucking away the remaining capsules into a side compartment, he turned to go, prepared to drop the half dead little bot in a heap- then smiled as a sudden thought worked it's way into his mind ~hmmm... still alive. Perhaps this 'fun' need not end so soon after all...~   
  
The sound of lapping water reaching his ears, he turned, hauling the dangling little carcass of wires and metal behind him.  
  
Blinded, the wretched little form hung gutted over the stream, eyes not so much closed as utterly ruined, small flakes of glass falling from the scuffed and half melted face to plink delicately into the stream. The wind made a faint, mournful moaning noise as it slipped through the exposed metallic intestines, almost as if mourning the little form. It slowly teased along the pipes and tubing, chilling the metal wherever it was wetted from previously ingested liquids or the dripping, black mechanical blood. The little form was shaking, small sparks of energy causing the limbs to occasionally twitch feebly, the pincers clamped shut... unable to see, it merely hung there, the CPU regulator sensors working overtime to stem the tide of programmed artificial agony, and failing. Unable to breathe, the combustion unit began shutting down, the CPU fluttering... Internal... systems... not working...CPU losing... power...  
  
Megaman smiled softly. Bent over the bridge, he held the little servbot over the clear, flowing water. Leaning in close, he breathed in a playful, soft tone "It's almost sad you know... sorry to be parting ways soooo soon, but I must be off- and so, sadly must you. Oh, and little fact for you- water and open machinery don't mix" as he casually opened his clenched fingers, releasing the burden with an almost kind smile etched across his face.  
  
The water flooded every subsystem. Filling the open chest cavity, the liquid sloshed inside, the little body shivering as shocks sparked through internal subsystems no longer internal, jerking it as the electricity blazed and faded, only to flare again. A haze took the CPU's fading consciousness as the water flooded into the Servbot's mechanical brain, slowly draining off the last feeble vestiges of the life sustaining power. The last functioning recording of the servbot's dying eyes were of the hazy and water distorted image of Megaman grinning down at through the water, face stained and smeared with oil and blood...  
  
Mind musing momentarily, Megaman pulled himself back up. Gathering a few scattered refractor shards off of the ground, he tucked them amidst the garnered capsules and set out across the grass. Not looking behind him, he paused, his mind running over the few events of the past ten minutes or so, a gentile distracted smile playing itself across his face as he moves off, gliding across the grass and into the woods, his eyes shadowed and thoughtful...  
  
  
"No I don't know where the little guy is Tron... maybe he ducked out for a bit of a siesta you know? You have been working them a bit hard..." Backing away from the volatile little powder keg his sister had suddenly become, Teasel ducked, smoothing his hair nervously as her gaze suddenly swung around, fixing on his own with a very un-amused glare.  
  
"Oh and I suppose I'm just supposed to let them laze around all day long? Let them go on their merry little ways wreaking who knows how much havoc? And besides... who gave him permission to just sneak off like that? Without me knowing what happened to him?? He could be in trouble, Teasel... I just have this terrible feeling in my gut..."  
  
"Well that's easy to take care of, just don't eat anymore of #26's cooking-" He ducked out of the way as the ceramic mug stating "I love mischief" suddenly erupted into shards an inch from his head. Shaken a little more than he would like to admit, Teasel looked up, staring at his sister soberly...   
  
"I'm-serious-Teasel. Something bad has happened. Just find him okay? ...please?"  
  
Staring into his sister's eyes, he shook faintly, nodding his head...  
  
  
Stepping around a few of the panicking servbots. Teasel bent down, pulling at the cord he had afixed to the dark shape under the water, dreading what he would find.... And, straining, pulled up the heap of smashed metal... the eyes staring blankly. Teasel jumped back, dropping the mangled remains onto the hard, rough wood of the bridge, watching in a kind of sickened curiosity as the little river eel worked it's way out of it's new home in the servbot's gaping stomach, flopping in the light before falling back into the river with a small 'plop'. Gritting his teeth at the rapidly increasing cries of "master Teeeisel!!!" that were rising in a gale from the gaggle of servbots milling around him, he could only shake his head. "...Glad Tron's not here. she'd fall apart at seeing one of her 'children' like this. This is... they even broke his contact lenses... that's..." the shock gripped his insides, turning them to water and his mind to a bloody haze. With the tip of his boot, he pushed the unsalvageable mangled little corpse back into the river, unable to handle it anymore, watching the water close over it. Numb, he turned, herding (browbeating) the gang of servbots back onto the airship hovering pristinely over the grass behind them.  
  
"COME ON peoples! It's time to get the HECK out of here!!" looking on last time at the river, he shook his head, red glass eyes glinting once in a surreal flash before, turning, he climbed inside. The surface of the water rippled with the blast of air, marking their departure as the Drache dipped and hovered, rising above the Clozer Woods. Teasel merely stared, his eyes glued to the world outside the window, silent as stone.  
  
  
  
"Um... Tron?"  
"-Yes?" Turning, Tron glanced up from what she was doing, a smile on her face as she glanced up to her older brother. Her hands stilled, one rising to rub at an itch plauging her cheek, the gesture leading a line of smeared grease along her face.  
  
  
Teasel fidgeted nervously, his mind buzzing through different ways to soften the blow. He hated bearing bad news. Tron wiped at the newly anointed grease on her face, further smearing across her cleanly complexion, and tilted her head, confused, at her brother.   
"Teasel? What's this all about?"  
  
"Tron? -They found one of your servbots out in the field."  
  
"What the police?? Is he okay? they didn't arrest him or-"  
  
"No no Tron... not the police- another servbot."  
  
Tron stared for long seconds, her eyebrows eventually twisting in confused annoyance as she drawled out. "Aaaaaand? Where is this leading Teasel?"  
  
"Tron. It's been deactivated. I didn't know what you wanted do-"  
  
"Oh Teasel don't be silly. I'm sure he's just knocked out by one thing or another- maybe he got hit by a car. They do silly stuff like that." Dismissing the information, she bends once again to the piece of machinery she was working on- an almost completed servbot hull. It's cheery faceplate was done, sitting on a table, fresh wet stencil sitting nearby. Teasel fidgeted, running a hand over the flamboyantly frizzy gray crest of hair at the back of his head. His descending hand struck the table for just a moment- the wood bucked a little, the tip of the stencil sliding down across a section of the newly painted eye ring, smearing the still wet paint at the bottom. It kind of looked like tears- not a good sign of things to come. Momentarily allowing himself to be distracted, Teasel studied the metallic body, asking in a light, feinted calm. "Thinking of makin a few more servbots Tron?" Listening to her calm, happy reply, he could only shake his head.  
  
"You should take something into account Tron. We're down a number-"  
  
Tron's head lifted at the words, her eyes showing a hint of concern. "The- faceplate had taken a lot of damage... the paint nearly gone. One eye cracked... pretty bad. It's iris's were completely empty- freakiest things I've seen. Tron- it's frontal plate had been torn off. Wires sticking everywhere... we found it in the stream. He's gone, Tron. I... thought you should know..." Ending lamely, Teasel raised his eyes from his metallic boots, glancing up to Tron- who just stood there, staring at him. Her voice was rather eerie as she said in a low, quiet voice. "...where is he now?"  
  
"I didn't know what you wanted- I pushed it back in the stream-" Teasel winced, expecting his fiery little sister to explode at him- but she was no longer facing him. Her eyes were glued to the metal wall- about a foot above the half completed servbot. "Teasel?"  
  
"Mm Hmmn?"   
  
"If you remember where... go back. And get hi- it. No- just- just retrieve the main CPU system- Okay? Got that? The little box in the head" Looking down, apparently staring at her toes, Tron was instead staring at the gaping head of the Servbot. She'd have answers... she told herself it was just for answers. Not because her stomach churned at the thought of one of her children 'dead'.  
  
Teasel nodded, closing his eyes as he removed himself from the room and walked down the corridor, wreathed by a few silent servbots, somber for once in their lives. His hand clenched as he walked, eyes flashing. 'who would do that? Who would DO something like that?' A low growl issued forth from the tall, green brooding form as he slipped through a doorway, on his way to the bridge.  
  
"Baabuu!!" Bon Bonne burbled happily in greeting as Teasel stepped silently through the darkened doorway of the bridge of the Gesellshaft, eyes on the floor. One glance at Teasel's face brought the strange, hulking robot up short, blinking slowly as he stared at his brother's disquieting mood. "baaahhbuu..."   
  
The door opened. Tron slipped up besides her brother, followed by her own cloud of servbots trailing behind her through the automatic door.  
  
"Be right back Tron. Promise. Quick trip in a Drache, there and back. We'll have him back soon Tron. Don't you worry yourself about that." Teasel held back a sniff as he looked down at his stone somber sister...   
  
Her face suddenly twisted in anger, and strength. Gritting her teeth, her head whipped around and she said in a firm voice "Thanks Teasel! Be careful- but if you find out who did that to him give him a good one for me! Make him PAY!" her little glove clenched as she seethed, a small, angry pout taking her face. The mood shifted with that dramatic sentence, so strikingly that everyone just hung there for a moment, trying desperately to hold the seriousness...  
  
Teasel laughed at the sudden change of mood, tousling his sister's hair in the way he knew she hated. Turning bright red, she swatted him, chasing him out of the bridge room, heavy footsteps and ridiculous, masculine giggles echoing down the hall as he headed for the Drache's hanger.  
  
The grass whipped and rippled in the wind as the Drache slowly set to earth. Teasel poked his head out the doorway as the hatch opened, glancing around as the door turned ramp set to earth, forming a walkway from the entrance of the craft. Followed by a bevy of three wide eyed servbots (can their eyes even get wider? o_0) he stepped from the craft onto the waving grass, his bushy crest of hair bobbing this way and that as he glances around, hands on his hips. "Nobody here...hmm... looks like it's safe to venture out. Well c'mon everybody- lets get this over with."  
  
"ROOOOOOGGGGEERRRRRRRR!!"(Chorused)  
  
  
The bridge groaned, shifting with minute little buckling movements, the already nervous servbots staring around with their wide, unblinking eyes as Teasel circled them, calling out instructions, admonishments and other less than useless hollerings as he waved his arms animatedly and otherwise hindered things. "good good NO pull the left one- no don't let the line out YOU DUNDERHEADS good no now- NO!!! ARRGH!!" Servbots toppling and yelling with pathetic comedy, one tripping the other with a leadline till they were toppling like dominos, nearly dropping into the stream. Shaking his head, Teasel wandered in, threading his way around fallen servbots till he had reached the end of the rope. Grunting, he clenched, pulling as hard as he could...  
  
Waving away milling servbots, he bent over the still, leaking form, watching the wood darken as the water flowed from the gaping titanium chassis of the... body. It was the only way he could describe the pathetic little thing. It was creepy... Shaking himself out of his musing, he tilted his head, looking the little form over... "In the head... In the head... well.... How does one get something like that out?" Staring... the explanation came to him, pulling a grimace from his mouth. Looking carefully around, he glanced this way and that, his eyes shadowed and his hair bobbing wildly. He nodded, not a servbot in immediate sight. Bushy eyebrows knitting, he turned back to the bot and, before any other servbots wandered into view, grabbed the rim of the chin, quickly ripping off the voicebox grill beneath. Thrusting a hand under the chin, he braced a foot against one of the 'underarms' and, straining, ripped the 'throat' out. Grimacing as he reached into the gory metallic remains, circulatory fluids coating his wrist and coursing down his arm, he felt around in the head, hands slippery with the synthetic fluids as his fingers scrabble across pipe and wire- till- he had it. Gripping the slippery metal box as best he could, he suddenly ripped back and down, his hand tearing the box from it's mooring- circuits hanging ,he holds it triumphantly over his head, grinning. "I GOT IT!" ... "um..." Smiling in embarrassment at the staring servbots, he quickly thrust the box behind him before coughing studiously. "Well- we got it- lets be running along now back to Miss Tron before someone unpleasant gets here..."   
  
"Right!" they chorused, filing back into the small airship. Teasel turned for a moment. Staring down at the still little shape, lying open and forlorn on the bridge before him... "Now.. I can understand- how Tron feels... " Glancing back- he hesitated... then pushed the empty little bot back into the stream, sighing-   
  
"Master Teasel! Hurry up master Teasel! It's time to go!" the beckoning servbot waved, hanging halfway out of the craft. Teasel nodded and followed, treading slowly up the gangplank before disappearing into the darkness of the craft.  
  
  
The CPU clanged as it hit the metal table, spinning briefly before coming to rest. Tron stared at it. One eyebrow rose slightly as she raised her head... "...Teasel?" he looked to her. "-couldn't you have cleaned it first??" Giggling in embarrassment, Teasel straightened, running a hand over the back of his neck... then recoiled, a look of utter disgust on his face as he pulls his fluid slick hand from his skin, turning bright red. "Sorry Tron... I'm going to take a shower now- Bon's in command for a while- see you in a bit" He was gone before she could say anything... Quirking an eyebrow, her lip curled into a grin... that Teasel...  
  
Turning back, she shooed the few servbots in the room out the door and locked it. Turning back, she stared over the equipment; the servbot form, it's head wide open, gaping forlornly. The CPU sitting serenely (and dirtily) on the metal table. Stretching, she suddenly clenched her hands- her fingeres crackled, popping satisfyingly as she stepped forward...  
  
Teasel's hand, pushing open the door, suddenly pulled back- the spray of sparks pouring over his glove, startling him- the door swinging free. Tron looked up, pulling off her weilding mask as the door abruptly closed... Then opened, Teasel staring dazed as his nose flared red...Wincing and laughing, Tron led him into the room, leaning him silently against a tool table against the wall...   
  
"Almost done... I guess, academically, with this we'll see if we can successfully reactivate a bot without memory loss... non academically? Well ... I don't want to just leave him sitting around. I couldn't just leave him like that. Cold and dead." She looked down, her face a shifting sea of hurt, at the still form of the newly made bot body. A hairline seam, it's top hot and glowing. The eyes were still empty, still deactivated; the same mindless emptiness the bot had worn in death. A faint shift took Tron's features, her eyes flaring briefly as she grappled the welding torch once again, raising it, menacing the air before her as she locks eyes with Teasel. "I'll just be done with the welding in half a second- just you wait and see! He'll be good as new! We'll have him back!"   
  
Confused, Teasel stared at the lifeless face of the servbot on the table, it's body utterly limp and it's eyes empty "But who is 'him'? What's his number?" Teasel glanced over at the face... the smeared eye, paint dribbling down... still there. Pulling his attention from the eyes, he watched, wincing at the bright glare. "I took a look at the listings. Had to do a bit of calling. Everyone's accounted for. Save one. Servebot number eight. Name's Bink. He's a sniper. Sharpshooter. Accurate and quick. Tends to also go for gunner or pilot positions. Likes explosives and coffee... I think..." Teasel's long, incredulous whistle follows, his eyes wide and surprised. Looking a bit sheepish, Tron grinned as she bent back to her welding. "Hey... what can I say? I know my children."   
Smiling, Tron pulled back, the welding laser shutting off... "There! Good as new! Better actually- gotten the practice of it- none of those structural flaws in the body THIS time! Heh- he doesn't even need contact lenses anymore! We'll teach em' to take out one of our own. Teasel! Throw the switch!" Tron's eyes glowed like a mad scientist, her hands clenched and eyes bright and burning as she leaned over the still little form... Humming, Teasel bent over and unceremoniously flipped the switch, smiling serenely...  
  
Thoughts... Images... swirling- indistinct. Fighting- against shadow and tide, thick flowing water... thick as the black fluids running through his systems... head rushing, he heard, eons away a faint click...  
  
His eyes snapped into focus, the light stabbing into his sensor shield. Wincing, he blinked several times, his body feeling more like lead then titanium. The rather disappointing blurry haze slowly sharpened, coalescing into... Miss Tron. staring in concern down at him.. A weak, watery smile lit his face. He coughed slightly, the sound tinny and odd in his new throat. Tron's face was a myriad of emotions as she bent over him, asking very softly.  
  
"Hey now... feeling okay?"  
  
"...yeah."  
  
"...I'm glad."  
  
"Oh n' Miss Tron? -I'm sorry about the tank. It blew up."  
  
Tron's laugh was faint, shaky. Pressing her knuckles to her forehead, she shook a little, bending to help the small robot sit up.   
  
Teasel's hand clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him from the table as he leaned over the bot, laughing.  
  
"Well looks like your back!! Congratulations on coming back from the dead!! Come on!! We got you pizza!" Hauling the dazed, groggy confused little bot behind him, he tromped Bink down the hall, out the door. Tron shook her head, rubbing at the soot stains in her hair with a groan as she followed them...   
  
  
She hugged him. It was all she could do. He hadn't said anything for almost a half hour, just leaning against her, in her arms. Tron's eyes were closed, her face drawn and her arms comforting as she rocked him, occasionally muttering comforting noises and holding him close. The party had seemed to go well save for one detail... they were afraid of him. They smiled, nodding, welcoming him back... but behind him, around him- the servbots directly out of his line of sight... stared. Just stood there and stared... as if they were waiting for something to happen- for demon wings to sprout or fire to flicker forth in his eyes. He had died. He was different now... no longer the innocent he had been before- he had changed. They didn't mean to ostracize him... They weren't trying to be mean...  
  
He slipped out halfway through the party. Tron noticed it immediately. The emptiness of his presence coming to her almost before he was gone. She had always been able to keep track of each and every servbot in her presence, remembering their names perfectly, uncannily. Turning her head, she carefully tilted to avoid running the tip of her hair into a potted fern, warmly running her fingers over the servbot she had been spending time with and rose, producing an excuse and wandered away, towards the door to the parlor room...  
  
It took few moments... almost as if by a sense of instinct (maternal instinct?) she had wandered, eyes closed... till she found him. The setting sun shone through the orange glass of the Gesellchaft's eye, slanting down onto the floor and half covering the deep red cushion of the round bench wreathing the walls of the small, comfy lounge. He didn't acknowledge her presence, didn't make a move... just sat there, staring dully at nothing. The coffee cup in his hands was empty, simply hanging between the curved pincer-like hands of the servbot. He turned away as she eased closer... The fingers of her gloves darkened in the tears as she turned his face towards her. She knew just what to do- words weren't required here... His sobbing had echoed through the hallway, bouncing from the metal walls of the Gesellschaft.  
  
  
"WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL??!? He DIED for god's sake!! You could AT LEAST try to HELP HIM HERE!" Miss Tron stood, her eyes slitted and teeth gritted hard as she stood, shaking in rage at the portal of the party hall. Her eyes swung glaring between one bot and the other, pinning each in place with a hard accusing stare. Shaking, the servbot's stared, held by her gaze. Each face, the expressions, however fixed, radiated a feeling of shame, their eyes glittering with guilt and unhappiness. Teasel blinked, his eyes glowing red as he slowly shook his head and said in a light, jovial voice. "Well- party ended- grab some grub and run off back to your stations! C'mon git!" herding a few servbots away from in front of him, he wandered on, looking to Tron with a strange look... the servbots, some still smiling, some ashamed, wandered on, filing out of the room and back to their workplaces. 


	2. Discrimination and rockets

Chapter 2: daily grind, a dash of violence and the fine line between love and loathing  
  
  
Spy.. Spy... Bink groaned. He hated spy work. Sneaking around doing a whole lot of nothing. At least he had escaped being staged in the library. The bank smelled funny, the air musty with the smell of paper and old coins. Bored, he shifted, leaning back- well, sinking back into the shiny black leather cushions of the couch. The leather made an odd creaking sound, funny to his ears. Several banking clients turned to glare at him after a few moments, scowling dangerously at his sudden burst of childlike antics. Bink stopped bouncing, leaning back in the chair before they started inquiring about where his 'parents' were... Drawing himself away from his thoughts, he sat back, twiddling his feet and leafing boredly through an instruction manual on savings plans, his mechanical brain absorbing every scrap of information as he boredly scanned the page- then stopped. The silence was eerie. A faint whisper began, one of the patrons, leaning against the wall by the window, glanced out- and hissed. "It's him.. He's here- he's coming here!" Looking around in a panic, the citizens in the bank fidgeted, on the verge of breaking-then silenced the aggravated chatter as the bell over the door sounded a tiny tinkling call.  
  
Bink suddenly became very interested in the financial savings plan list on option two, trying not to let his hands shake. The heavy tromping footsteps slowly approached...   
  
All eyes avoided him. Staring around as he slipped inside, his hands lingering on the door, making a light scraping sound across the wood. He flashed them a winning smile, snickering derisively at their shunning silence. Midnight black armor gleaming in the halogen lights flickering faintly overhead. His mind drifted from the task at hand and the accusing stares as he caught sight of something on the couch.  
  
Bink slowed his rapidly rising breathing as best as he could, holding the brochure over his face and trying in vain to read the shaking script across the page  
  
...Megaman blinked, laughing slightly as his hand descended, snatching away the brochure...   
  
Bink jumped, shaking, as he saw the hand close around the shiny plastic paper of the brochure, crumpling the delicate paper. The fingers were almost jet black, only the faintest hint of blue struggling through the inky darkness. The paper was wrenched free, and there he was- Megaman, staring down at him through his smoldering green eyes. He shivered at the smile stretching across Megaman's face, trying to draw his eyes away...  
  
"Hey it's one of those freaky little lego rejects!" Grinning, Megaman suddenly reached out, roughly snatching the small struggling form by the head/neck junction and hoisting it far in the air. Shaking the servbot idly, he walked a few steps, standing in the middle of the room, thoroughly enjoying himself as he shook the servbot with every statement. "Sooooo what ya doin here little bot? Did that creepy bitch send you down here to scope out the place mmm?" Blinking a little bit, Megaman swayed back, moving away from the sudden, unexpected kicking swing produced by the angry servbot. Looking a little more closely, he suddenly giggled and quipped "Hey- what the heck happened to your eye?" Interested, he reached out...  
  
Bink shivered as he felt Megaman's hand slide across the glass of his eye, the metal of his fingers making a soft scraping sound as Megaman ran a finger across the faintly smeared paint on the left side of his face. He felt the bot stiffen, and smirked as it hissed out. "You might not recognize me- I'm different now... you killed me, remember?"   
  
"Ahhh... mm no- OH yes I think I might... Clozer woods- tank- very funny..." Bink shook, eyes wide, as Megaman pressed him into a pillar, moving close and breathing, hissing into his ear. "Want me to do it again?" Laughing as the servbot blanched, eyes paling, and headed for the door, task forgotten. Striding quickly across the perfectly manicured lawn, he walked to the fountain, easing down on the sculpted concrete of the edge, still holding the struggling, panicking bot. "Remember this?? The water... sinking over your head. It SCARES you- doesn't it?" The mist sprayed over him, beading on his artificial skin as he thrust the servbot an inch from the water, grinning as it struggled, hands clamped to his restraining fingers. Tucking the servbot under his arm, Megaman rose, his face fixed in a grin as he lifted it before his face. "Tell your mistress hi for me!"   
  
Moving away from the edge, Megaman tensed, taking several quick steps, one hand bracing the bot under the chin, the other on the waist, tucked under the little button like knobs on it's tummy. Holding the bot before him, Megaman held the servbot before him, and, adding a little heft, let it go and kicked viciously, his foot slamming into it's stomach as he drop kicked the servbot over the twenty foot edge.  
  
Bink screamed as he hit the palm tree, the tall trunk shivering as he collided with it, his internal diagnostics throwing a fit. Bouncing off the tree, he spun to a stop, sliding across grass and then concrete, in a shower of sparks. A small terrier like dog skipped up, it's voice rising in a bark as it's green clad owner scolded "Paprika! Get away from there!" Another man looked on in concern, tilting his construction hat back from his forehead. Bink rose, shaking, rapidly glancing around before he launched himself, skipping and scrambling, towards the portal to the Downtown District.  
  
The buildings flashed by as he sprinted down the main road, confused eyes following his progress, wondering townspeople turning to stare. A car, shining a dull red in the sunlight, coasted down the main street, faster than the servebot could dodge. The driver's eyes widened as the 'child' ran before his car, staring up at him through strange eyes... Bink gasped, his head whipping around as he skips on desperate block-like feet, backpedaling and turning to jump to the side- the car's fragile bumper crumples as he flips, spinning, to the side, howling as he is struck- his titanium form easily accommodating a mere car strike but the agony screaming through every artificial sensor, knocking his respiration system out for a few moments, leaving him gasping in the middle of the street. Trying to ries to rise, his legs wouldn't work quite right as he focuses as best as he could on the shining lights that were rapidly approaching him.  
  
"I'm telling you! No child could have survived that!! It's a pirate creation I'm sure of it!" the police officer batted at his partner, pointing at the form in the street, the eyes flickering open and closed in strange shuddering movements. Turning on the light, he waited till the car was almost stopped before leaping out, stumbling a little and drawing his gun, whipping a bead on the bot before shouting "Freeze pirate!"  
  
Bink looked up, small chips of paint remaining on the street as he whipped around, staring at the cops. Suddenly leaping up, he sprinted, his rectangular feet clanging on the blacktop as he ran out of the street- barely skipping aside of a street lamp and taking off- the street lamp besides him suddenly spit forth a few sparks and shrieked as the bullet bounced off of it, lodging in a nearby building's wall- Bink coughed in panic, running into the maze of residential houses, hearing the hoarse shout and thumping footsteps of the police officers and occasional popping explosions as bullets bounced and hit behind and around him- he pitched forward as the wall just by his head flew in a puff of stucco and he screamed, turning a corner.  
  
"Where the heck did he go??" The police officer adjusted his helmet, glancing around and cursing acidly as he wandered for a few moments. His partner growled and beckoned with a curt gesture before turning another corner and going on, muttering in an angry voice.  
  
The trash can lid slid, shimmying off and falling with a clatter to the ground. Pulling himself out of the largely empty garbage can, he shook off a few errant scraps of paper and vegetable bits and shook himself, taking off at a run for the library doors thirty meters away.  
  
The servbot in the library slowly turned a page, sighing, her legs kicking boredly (hey they carry gender in the voice). She looked up, closing the book, as another servbot suddenly burst through the double doors, gasping and wild eyed. Seeing her, he scrambled forward- the librarian turned her eyes to the two, worried at the state of the kid that had just slipped into the library interior. Watching the two out of the corner of her eye, the librarian turned back to the forms, only paying half attention to the document.  
  
Staring curiously, the other bot stopped, trying to remember if she knew him- then scooted a little back upon noticing the blemished coloration streaking beneath his eye. "H-hey I don't know what your doing here but this is my-" She looked to the librarian and lowered her voice "this is MY post... your at the bank remem-" He stopped her with a hand, staring at her.  
  
"Megaman's here- cops everywhere- where do you think I got THIS for Tron's sake??" He thrust a pincer like hand at his face, tracing a scrape in the paint. She nodded, scooping up the book and jumping down. "Carl's in the police office- I hope he hasn't gotten caught yet, and Juan is in the electronics store- we can get him as we leave. We'll just have to tell Miss Tron we failed- c'mon." Bink nodded and moved up besides her. She tucked the book under her arm and jumped down from her chair, hurrying to the door. "Hey wait!" the librarian raised a hand, adjusting her glasses with the other hand and leaning over the counter. "Aren't you going to check that out first??" The other servbot just gave her a disgusted look and pushed open the door, slipping out and holding it for Bink as they slipped into the sun laced air outside.  
  
"Leslie- did you see him when he went by?" Leslie looked at him as if he was immensely stupid and growled "do you think I'd be around here if I saw the black bomber here??" Bink nodded, running besides her with their bouncing gait, heading for the Apple Market at the south end of town. The door loomed close, and they dashed for it- before a large van, bearing a bright orange and yellow coloration pattern, slid to a stop besides the two, staring in shock in the street. The van left large black marks across the pavement, spinning in an arc besides them, the door slamming open as the form within jumped out. Roll adjusted the chain gun in her hands, looking the two servbots over and raising an eyebrow. Leslie backed away as Bink stepped forward, scared out of his wits. "We didn't do anything wrong Miss Roll lady! Please we need to go!!" Roll rubbed some grease off her face and readjusted her gun, grunting under the weight. Her dark red armor, remarkably like Teasel's, bore many dents and blemishes, but she held up that which wasn't supported by the pressure pistons- a considerable weight, with pride. The gun strapped to her back looked remarkably like a rocket launcher, the word 'ACTIVE' scrawled across the top in block printing. Roll just growled and shook her head vigorously. "I'm not after you little guys. You KNOW who I'm here after- Where is he?" Turning her head, she glanced up the main avenue, then back down as Bink approached hesitantly. "City Hall district. Bank- last time I saw him. I think he might be coming this way..." Shaking, they looked up the street, and stared. Emerging from the portal was a form, indistinct from far away- save for the singular feature of it's dark blue armor- Roll's rage poured from her musical voice. "He's here! Megaman is here!!" Leslie grabbed him fiercely on the arm, dropping her library book and tugging him to the door with a quick, high pitched "Sorry Miss Roll we need to go now!! Please be careful!!" Roll nodded, checking her equipment and said swiftly- "Tell Tron we're not finished yet her and I-" Bink's last view was of her tromping down the street towards the battle prepped figure, raising her gun. Then the door closed, muffling the faint sounds of chain-gun fire and explosions of plasma...  
  
Bink and Leslie ran down the center of Apple Market, dodging angry people and trashcans. Bink skipped aside as a short boy in a bluish shirt suddenly jumped towards him, calling out to one of his friends- "Hey!! They're with the suspicious pirate lady from before!!" Swatting the child aside with an angry tilt to his features, he hissed his eyes taking on a formation they had never had the need to adopt before. Anger. Bink glared at the other two children as they hoisted their partner to his feet, spitting the words. "Get out of our way. We need to get out of here- not fight with you three clowns. Do you want Megaman to kill us all??" Bink grabbed Leslie by the arm, yanking her towards the electronics store at a dead run. The door made a tinkling sound as the bell was bumped, the two 'children' slipping through the doorway and glancing frantically around. Bink whispered urgently, his pincer-like hands to his mouth "Juan? -Juan?? Blast it where are you?" Leslie elbowed him and pointed to a box in the corner... which shifted, bucked, and then spread open on top, revealing a very annoyed looking servbot bearing a backpack- "what the heck are you doing here? I don't know about you but I try to be professional when it comes to my assignment and you just blew my urk!" Bink tugged, pulling the other servbot out of the box and shaking him slightly as he hissed. "Megaman's here- and so is Roll. You know what that means- who knows what could happen! Personally I'm not interested at all in dying again." Juan looked at him another moment- his eyes brightening in recognition and he nodded, gulping. "Lead the way then." Bink slipped out of the store followed by he others, the voice of the electronics store owner calling out "Hey!! Your not kids!"  
  
"Hey Juan- you got the radio right?" Juan looked up as they were running, silently nodding and fishing the walkie-talkie out of his backpack, fumbling to flip the switch. The hand held radio exploded in static as the servbots slowed to a walk, moving to surround Juan and the crucial radio under a small tree. The sound of various servbot chatter sounded as Juan turned the knob, scanning for Bonne prime- and heard Tron's strident commands through the radio, her voice butchered by the receiver's inadequacy. Juan silently handed the radio to Bink, who took it, 'thumbing' the talk button. "Miss Tron? Miss Tron- trouble in the city Miss Tron! There's a BIG battle goin on- Megaman's here! And Roll found him!!" Juan winced, looking back at the city- and stared. Nudging Leslie, he pointed silently... The city was alight with the flashes of the raging battle, sparks and explosions competing with the pulsing light of plasma blasts going awry as the battle raged.   
  
Bink clicked the receiver, listening- and jerked his head away as the static blazed at him, followed by Tron's voice. "Who is this? Juan? It doesn't sound- his voice is deeper... Joey- no- Bink! Bink you're in trouble? Who all is with you?" The concern in her voice was touching, but Bink merely shook his head and went on "Leslie, Juan and me- we couldn't get Carl out... we're sorry." Bink looked down, his eyes dimming... he hoped Carl would be okay. Even getting arrested was better than... he rubbed at his tummy, the memory, feeling more like a bad dream, coming back to him, of Megaman laughing as he tore him open, reaching into his body- jerking himself out of the reminiscence- he turned back to the radio. "Miss Tron! Miss Tron!? What do we do??"   
  
Tron's voice was grim. "I'm sending down a Drache with Charlie. I want you all to get in- then go and see if you can get Carl. Where is the fight happening?"  
  
"Downtown District."  
  
"Then swing around there and hit it from the north- just get him out of there and yourselves to safety. We'll discuss everything else later- Tron over and out." The static started up again, a dull, endless droning buzz.  
  
"Right" turning back to Leslie and Juan, Bink nodded. "Chuck's coming with a Drache. We get Carl and get out." The three nodded, hunkering down under the tree as the clouds moved slowly over the sun.  
  
The mini missile vented a trail of gray smoke as it shot out of the end of her gun, the impact slamming the weapon into her power armor- an impact she hardly felt. Her eyes slitted, she reigned in the weapon, pulling off a rolling dodge to the side as a spray of plasma bolts slammed to earth a millimeter away where she had been standing, sending up a wave of melted asphalt to splatter against her special jump boots.  
  
"Give it UP Roll!! You KNOW you can't handle me!! These new toys are no different!!" Megaman blinked, ducking behind the smoking side of a building as a missile, beeping dully, sailed towards him and buried itself into the building with a small explosion. At first Roll had been weak- a joke. He had laughed at her vow- laughed at her attack. He had to admit; he wasn't laughing anymore. Getting steadily faster and faster, harder and harder hitting, Megaman, though he refused to admit it, hated and feared these meetings between him and Roll. Lately... he could never be sure... how they would turn out. Pale, he moved a handful of hair from his face, readying his plasma blaster once again and slowly peeking from the side of the- the rain of bullets splattered across the building, a few whizzing by mere inches from his face as he drew back.  
  
"These 'TOYS' are going to tear you APART MEGAMAN!! You'll NEVER hurt ANYONE EVER AGAIN!!" Roll's trembling scream sounded from near the library, echoing from the stone as she swung around, hunting her ex bestest best friend with a hard gleam in her eye, clutching the hot barrel of the chain buster with strained fingers. Gritting her teeth, she tensed, drawing a bead on the spot she had last seen him- waiting for a sign of movement...  
  
'This is ridiculous! Self doubt is for wussies and dead people. Time to move in for the ki-' Megaman gritted his teeth, half shutting his eyes as he forced himself to finish. 'Move in... for the kill. I've got to kill Roll... no matter how everything used to be. No use talking anymore... talk is... over now.' The blasts had stopped for a moment. Taking up a new position, he readied his buster gun and threw himself around the corner, spinning his back to the wall and peppering the area with high level pulse bursts of hot plasma. Stucco and concrete atomized on impact, leaving nothing but smoking craters and a sifting of dust... but Roll was nowhere to be found. Catching the slightest movement out of the corner of his eye, Megaman's head snapped up, his shining green eyes staring disbelieving at the sight of Roll nearing the top of her leap- 'no way she could jump that hi-' The missiles bucking forth from the end of the Active launcher had almost reached him, speeding down at him from the sky. Megaman rolled desperately, skidding to a stop as crushed concrete blew across him, paling his hair. Roll landed delicately on top of a building, shifting with a grinding sound on the wooden slats of the roof. He screamed as he shot, his eyes watering from the crumbled concrete across his face. "Roll! We could have worked together you and I!! We could have been so much Roll- like a digger and spotter should. If only you'd have listened Roll... if only you had known what had happened..." The chain gun fire neared as he fired, Roll's aim, however hampered by the explosive balls of plasma and the various dodges she was forced into above the rooftops, was getting steadily better as the seconds ticked by.   
  
"I'd NEVER side with you!! You're a MURDERER!! You killed DATA!! Shut up and fight!!" Near sobbing with rage, Roll leapt forth from a building, dropping swiftly to her knees to avoid the hard flashing balls of plasma that destroyed the facade of the house behind her. Several terrified screams sounded as she rose, hefting her gun and leaping- turning, she bounced off a wall, bounding between one building and another here or there, spreading dented cracks as she pushed off- Megaman caught her as she came at him, wrapping his fingers around the hard red armor around her wrist and, with a snarling heave, spun her to the wrecked and scorched street. The armor vented forth screaming sparks as it slid, Roll tumbling and slamming into a street lamp, causing it's horrible death as it folded at the middle, collapsing to the street below. Ripping the bent ended street fixture out of the ground, Roll hefted the fifteen foot plus long pole in her armored hands, glaring and snarling bitterly.  
  
"Oh THAT'S the way you want it?? I can do that too little girl!!" Tearing out the pole on the other side of the street in a shower of sparks, Megaman hoisted it before him, grinning ferally as he faced off with Roll, stepping off the sidewalk and into the street. Roll stared- well, glared really, measuring her old friend with wary eyes. Holding the impromptu oversized quarterstaff before her, she stepped carefully to the side. Megaman, however, promptly broke his lamp end off and was twirling it like a baton, spinning the pole in one hand in a blur and gently beckoning her forward with his other. Mind burning, Roll moved a little bit closer, watching his every move- and whipped her quarter staff upwards as he slammed his for her head, giving it a spin slightly counteractive of his as his descended and then flew out, it spinning out of control and nearly out of his grasp as she batted it away. The move continued, the other end, near the bottom, swinging upwards and clipping him under the chin, his head rocking back. Roll gave no quarter, the end coming back then swiftly and savagely inward, catching him full end in the stomach, knocking the wind from him as she spun her own body around his, placing an elbow in his back and pulling the quarterstaff out of the way- most of the way. His eyes flicked downwards, followed by his hands as he locked in a death grip around her wrist, pulling the staff from her protesting fingers and whipping around, one hand still holding her as the other, not fully controlling it, swung the length of metal forward, catching Roll across the head. Spinning back, she stumbled, eyes dazed, recovering as best she could as she wiped away the trickling blood, though inside she wanted to curl up crying. Head pounding, she stood before him. He merely grinned, hefting the end of his buster gun as a curl of wispy gray smoke slid from the end, the smell of burning ozone rising as the plasma began to flicker and grow at the tip.   
  
The hail of plasma bullets pattered the street around him, bouncing tearing across his armored body with ripping holes and dents as he ducked, placing hand and buster gun over his head and roared in raging pain. The Drache sailed on, not stopping and picking up as much speed as it could, sailing for Uptown, and rocked as the booming impact of the ball of plasma caught the edge, tilting it to the side and several degrees off course. "Shoot at ME?? You little bastards- I'll get you for that!" Voice choked with pain and consuming anger, Megaman launched himself, limping faintly, down the street, intending on killing the retreating servbots; but halted at the sound of a rocket launcher loading. Swinging around with a fully prepped plasma blast flickering in the tube of his buster gun, he snapped his arm upwards, his other hand bracing the barrel of his transformed arm.  
  
The niggling sound at the edge of Roll's consciousness suddenly sprang into focus, driving into her conscious mind like a spike; Gramps' voice, high with tension, screaming across the gritty static laced transmission of the spotter channels. "Roll? ROLL?? Respond!! Roll what are you doing?!?? FIGHTING in the middle of DOWNTOWN?!?? Roll, get OUT of there! Stand down!! STAND DOWN!!! Oh lord please let her here me..." Hitting the transmitter switch, Roll turned, saying into the mike. "Right- transmission received... sorry bout not hearing you before but gotta go- meet you in the spotter car. Over and out" Roll turned, staring at Mega through tired eyes. Shaking her head, she shook the barrel of the Active launcher at him, fixing him with a stare. "This is NOT over!! You WILL pay- but another day!! Till then Megaman!!" Turning, she tore down the street, running as fast as she could, her armor making odd hissing and grinding noises as the weight support pistons vented and called, holding up the considerable weight of the armor. A few halfhearted explosions of plasma followed her feet, throwing up debris as Megaman's laughter followed her down the street...  
  
Hitting the door, she threw herself into the van, whipping around till she had fallen partially against the very back wall of the vehicle, and shouted "Gramps!! Lets get the HECK out of here!!" She braced as the van bucked into motion, Gramps' tense "got it!" sounding as the two tore away across the front street, slid around the corner of the library and were gone. Megaman slowly turned, craning his head as he surveyed the thrashed houses and burned and pockmarked street... hell- they had even managed to collapse the top story of the library. Shaking his head in wonder, Megaman shrugged, casually tromping up the street, heading for Apple Market, casually ignoring the shaken stares of people from within their wrecked and half wrecked houses.  
  
Carl looked out the window for the fifteenth time, staring in the direction of the Downtown district and it's strange and disturbing light show. Leaning back against the corner, he thumped his head against one wall, worry twisting inside his mechanical innards. The police officer glared at him again, not liking the thought of having a child in a police department. Snorting slightly at the citizen's perpetual problem with identifying him and other servbots as anything but their own people's young, he shook his head, turned to the window, and stared incredulously. The Drache, rather than hovering peaceably, slammed into the grass, denting the lawn and belching forth smoke from a soot stained hole in the outer hull on one side. The hatch, swinging open, was assisted in it's downwards swing by a struggling servbot, the bot frantically waving a hand and calling to him, beckoning him inside. Unable to hear him, Carl simply nodded, rushing towards the door. Hitting it on the run, he leapt up, pushing into the release bar and swung the door outwards- and stopped, staring at the cop in front of him, barely a foot away, the gun aimed right at his head. "Freeze!! You're with the pirates aren't you?? SPYING on us?? You little-" Hearing a click behind him, the police officer turned, staring... at another servbot, holding a gun in it's pincers, fully loaded. Carl stared, unable to place the name- till his eyes, roving over the face, caught the smudging dribble of paint under the eye- Bink? Bink was saving him? Wierded out, Carl tried to move, edging around the cop as the police man growled, saying contemptuously "what are you going to do little one? Shoot me? You wouldn't dare." Bink just flickered expressions. What was once neutral expression, round eyed and slightly frowning, abruptly flicked to another face with a slight shuttering sound. The eyes were round on the bottom, apparently cut in half into a glare, 'eyebrows' turned sharply downwards. Bink wrenched his head to the side and Carl nodded, edging to the grounded Drache and began climbing the gangplank. "STOP!" The cop shouted, drawing a bead on the retreating servbot, his finger tightening on the trigger, then cried out as the gun spun away, shot from his fingers. Glaring at the bot holding the gun on him, he stepped closer as the bot moved, sidestepping like a crab, towards the craft. "Don't make me shoot out your knees" He blinked. The bot looked like it was fully intending to do just that.   
Bink stepped carefully up the gangplank, watching the policeman carefully. As the door began to close, he tucked the gun under one short arm and bowed before moving into the darkness of the craft.  
Chuck turned in the pilot seat, looking back over his shoulder and saying in a slightly more baritone voice than usual for servbots. "We got him?" Bink nodded, briefly rubbing Carl on the shoulder and leading him to the passenger's chair. Carl sat carefully, looking confused by the whole thing and eased into the cushion. Leslie took a seat beside him, nodding to him and strapping herself in as the craft began rising, hovering unsteadily for a moment before leveling off smoothly. And Bink took his seat in the gunner's pod, sitting down in the belly of the craft, his head slightly below the other servbot's feet and pulled the transparent fiberglass ceiling over him as he began flicking on screens and sensors, television monitors popping into view, showing him the outside world. Bink began launching the start up programs of the spread gun, warming up the motors as the craft rose, bellowing forth smoke and waves of heated air as Chuck pulled upwards, forcing altitude into the craft.   
  
"Mission accomplished Miss Tron. Carl secure... but the Drache took a hit- we should be back soon for report and stuff Miss Tron." Bink heard the crackle of the radio above in the main room, the servbots happily laughing and hugging each other as they caught sight of the shadowy form on the horizon, the Gesellchaft hovering peaceably over the Clozer forest.  
  
The gangplank hissed open and down, revealing the dusky shapes of the Drache hangar, bathed in the light of sunset from the open hatchway of the Gesellchaft's massive side. Bink pulled himself out of his uncomfortable position in the gunner pit, looking up as a familiar face blocked the rosy red light. "Babbuu!!" Bink laughed as Bon stuck his head in the door, burbling happily. Leslie giggled, hugging his large bulky leg as the odd robot bent, taking the servbot in a titanium bending hug. She just laughed and kicked her feet happily, jumping down and moving into the group of the other four servbots. Laughing, Miss Tron moved up beside her younger brother and tapped at a notepad like laptop held lightly in her left hand. Carl stepped forward, bowed for a moment and began, Miss Tron typing as she ran her eyes over him, looking unconsciously for harm. "Police dispatch is having problems Miss Tron. Their radio receiver was damaged in a fight with Megaman so they can't call out on the radio! Once out in the field they can't talk... and the commissioner looks real bad. All haggard and tired out. Kinda feel sorry for the guy." Shrugging, Carl moved back, allowing Bink to step forward. His mind flashing over the incidents at the bank, he shivered, ducking his head as he stepped up to the curious stare of Miss Tron. "Miss Tron. if it's okay... I'd rather download my information rather than report." Leslie blinked. Servbots usually hated having to do that... not only did it feel downright sickening to have the jack plugged under your chin, but it almost always led to a punishment, allowing Miss Tron to see just how much goofing off and messing around a servbot did on spy duty. Bink just backed to the very end of the group, looking at the floor. It must have been a bad, bad day. Juan shrugged a little, rattling off his report. "Prices are going up because people are buying stuff... a lot of flashlights and batteries mostly. Lots of batteries. People are talking about all kinds of things. The Main Gate and Megaman... they think the apocalypse is coming... what with Megaman wanting to open the Main Gate and all... I can't blame them." Leslie nodded agreement, wincing as she continued and summed up the report. "speaking of apocalypse. The old legend says that not only is there the fabulous treasure underground... most likely in this Main Gate deal.... But also- something we should majorly avoid tangling with. No book would say what it was... but whatever it is- it's bad. Real bad. I found out this island originally had upwards of four other cultures on it. All dead. They had built on previous cultures.... But all of them had been killed off by something. Something really bad. I don't know- nothing was that specific... but this is going from worse to tragic, if you ask me." Carl quipped under his breath. "yeah but nobody asked you" He caught Leslie's fist in the stomach, knocking him onto his back where he curled up as she plopped onto him, pummeling him with odd clanking noises. Bon Bonne merely lifted the two, shaking them with tooth rattling force, in his cute friendly way. "Baaii" Dropping them both to the deck, they looked up to Tron's not remarkably amused face as she tapped her nails against the board.  
  
"You five have been through a lot. Head for the mess hall and grab some supper. Then head for the torture room for punishment. I'll go light this time because of recent events..." She measured each face as the servbots stared pleadingly at her. A smile passed across her face as she finished, drawling out "after that... a... ten hour siesta. Knock yourselves out" She turned, walking away to hide her smile as she heard the ecstatic cheering erupting behind her.  
  
"Wow, TEN hours??" Leslie grinned, grabbing Bink in one hand and Juan in the other, looking back at Chuck and Carl and saying "C'mon! Lets grab some dinner and get this over with!! We've got TEN HOURS to burn!!" Laughing, she rushed down the hall, only marginally paying attention to the fact that she was dragging her captives across the floor as they curled up, giggling.  
The mess hall quieted a little as the new group burst through the door but picked up again almost immediately as they saw merely another group of Servbots coming in to eat. A few hushed and bent over their meals as they caught sight of Bink's telltale visage, but far less than the night after his death and resurrection. Approaching the front of the cafeteria, the five got in line behind the other waiting servbots.   
  
Sighing boredly, Bink leaned against the wall besides him, tapping a pincer on his tray. Charley looked at him and said in a deep, low voice. "Hey could you maybe cut it out? that's annoying as heck Bink" Bink gave him a look, smiled and shrugged affirmative "sure thing Chuck, whatever you say." Charley groaned. "Pleeease. I HATE that name. My name's Charley." A few servbots behind him complained at their stall and they resumed walking, tones hushed. "Charley? Sure thing man- Chuck is kinda dorky anyway. "Yeah. Thanks. I think...." Scratching his head, Charles moved forward as the line shrunk.   
  
Juan rubbed his head with the tray and groaned. "This sucks. Not dinner, I mean. The damn torture part." He scowled, looking accusingly at the rest of the group, convinced it was completely their fault. Leslie glared at him for a second. "Well thank ya for bringing that up! It was all HIS fault anyway!" Carl blinked at the accusing pincer, and hung his head. "Yeah. It is... I'm sorry."   
"It IS your fault don't give me- huh?" Startled silent by the admittance, she stood unmoving, staring. Bink merely laughed and tugged her arm. "C'mon princess. You're holding up the line."  
The food servbot smiled, tilting his head as the five approached and adjusted the strange chef's hat atop his head. Luckily he wasn't a bot in training, and so was warm and friendly, not the harried wretches on trainer days. Nodding warmly, he held up the spoon, eyebrows raised questioningly. Carl cleared his throat, turning to look at the rest of the group. Les spoke up. "If anyone objects, just five of the C special. What is it? Pasta prima- prim- noodles and sauce. Sound good?" Bink shrugged, Carl nodding and Chuck staring off into space. Juan scrunched up his features, shaking his head. Shrugging, Leslie placed four orders, waiting to the side. Juan got a B lunch chicken sandwich, looking at the other orders in undisguised loathing. Bink nipped off for just a moment, snatching the parmesan container from a nearby condiments table and drowned his entire meal in the stuff. Nodding, he rejoined the group, Leslie merely shook her head, smiling at him.  
  
Charley tapped Carl's shoulder, pointing. "nearly empty bench." Bink nodded, smiling as the group tromped over. A few servbots looked up, not many, and one smiled welcome before turning back to his food. The group sat, Leslie, Bink and Charley on one side, Carl and Juan on the other as they set into their meals, conversation dying off.  
  
Bink chewed in relative silence, his mind elsewhere. His fork spun slowly as he moved the handle, rotating it in his hands subconsciously, eyes staring off into space.  
  
"So. How did the spy missions go hmm?" Bink slowly blinked, startled, and turned around to glance behind him at- Teasel, sitting placidly at a bench and delicately pulling apart a poppyseed muffin in his armored fingers. Leslie shifted face, beaming. "It was scary! Megaman was there and Roll and everything!" Teasel stared, and leaned forward, setting aside his muffin. "Megaman? Megaman was there?? What happened?" Several servbots had stopped to listen as their leader conversed with the group of servbots on the bench. Turning to look at each other, the surrounding servbots leaned in closer, listening intently.  
  
Bink spoke up in a shaking voice. "Megaman was here all right! I was stationed in the bank and everyone got scared and then suddenly he was there!" A bot piped up, looking concerned. "What- did he do to you?"   
  
"I was sitting on the couch and he grabbed me and scared me bad and kicked me off the City Hall ledge garden wall and I hit a tree and it HURT!" Teasel couldn't help smiling at the childlike meter of the speech, but tried to look businesslike as he leaned in, listening to the rest of the story. Bink turned as another servbot tapped him. "Did you get out okay?" Bink nodded. Another piped up. "What does he look like?" Bink shivered, describing the black clad psychopath to the other servbots then continuing. "Then I was running to get the others and I got hit by a car. It was an accident Master Teasel I'm sorry! Some police showed up and started shooting at me- I hid and got away and then I saw Leslie..." He turned, his servbot eyes, expression fixed but still managing to relay shaky nervousness, on her.   
  
Teasel nodded as he listened, absorbing the words but more- studying the faces. A servbot actually could pull a lot of communicating off through body language, despite the fixed expressions. The tilt of a head, shakes, or even how quickly an expression changed could all give clue to the physical and emotional state of a servbot. and these servbots looked pretty haggard. The way the story was going, it sounded like it had been quite a hard day. Teasel drummed a finger against the table as he listened, occasionally nodding, his hair bobbing with each move. The servbots continued to reiterate the not so nice events of the day. One of the servbots turned to look at him. Teasel tried to place the name... then smiled as he saw the smudge under the eye.   
  
Each servbot winding their tale to a close, Bink leaned against the table, trying not to think about the day's events. Dejectedly making bubbles in his milk, he rested, slouching as the conversation flitted about him. And felt a hand on his shoulder. A large hand, the fingers concealed in green armor. Bink smiled as he looked up into Teasel's friendly smile as the tall man rubbed the little childlike robot on the head. "Ya did good kids. Keep up the good work. Heard Tron's got a bit of unpleasantness scheduled for you guys later on. Tell you what... I'll see if I can't ask her to give you guys a break. Sound good mm?" Teasel smiled and nodded, wandering away, humming to himself as he snatched up the rest of his muffin and took off for the doorway at the end of the cafeteria, nibbling his muffin.  
  
Tron looked up as Teasel entered, sweeping muffin crumbs from his fingers to the floor of the bridge. Standing straight and proud, he wiped more crumbs from his mouth and claps his sister in a bone bending hug. (Bonne bending hug?) He stepped away, smiling as she glared at him playfully. Swatting him on the arm, she turned away just in time to hide her wince. Teasel pretended to look hurt, smirking. Then he got serious, discarding his playful antics for another tune. "Hey Tron. Came down to plead the case of a few servbots. Heard there was a bit of a scuffle and they got in earlier and weeelll..."   
  
Tron smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Come to plead pitifully for their welfare Teasel?" Teasel giggled, then looked at Tron and quailed slightly at her serious if humorous expression. She raised an eyebrow, waiting. Mumbling faintly, he said in a hushed voice "Aww c'mon Tron! This is embarassing!"   
  
Her grin was triumphant. "I know."   
  
Shrugging, Teasel, trying not to burst out in giggles fell to his knee and, with the pomp and regalia of a proposing prince, spouted forth in an overly dramatic voice. "Oh Mistress Tron! Goddess of the Kobun! Would you, great lady of wisdom and mercy please spare two of your wayward children??"   
  
Tron merely grinned. "Six"   
  
"OKAY six! ...Well?" He grinned prettily, flashing a white smile. She pretended to mill it over, before laughingly helping her brother to his feet. The servbots of the bridge giggled, enjoying their master's mirth and silliness. Teasel, calming himself, turned to Tron, who nodded. "Kay Teasel. I'll give em a day off to go with their day off." Bon raised his great spherical head/torso/ his odd little mouth lifting in a strange, undeniably Bon'ish smile as, fluttering the noisemaker briefly like a reptilian tongue "Babuu!"  
  
Bink walked slowly down the center of apple market, his little pincer like hands clutching the little kobun sized blue backpack weighing comfortably on his small shoulders. The light shone down, muted slightly, illuminating all the shops and stalls. Bink didn't care that he had seen bigger, brighter, more amazing and special shops, markets and locations in his travels of the world; each encounter, each place was beautiful, unique and held it's own brand of joy. Bink scanned the walk, sighting the various shops, on the prowl for one very special shop in particular. Repressing a squeak of glee, he quickened his steps, hurrying towards the storefront of one particular shop. The Mini Disk store's windows seemed to gleam a little brighter than normal, seemed to be in just a little too sharp a focus. Bink felt the smile spread across his face, and he didn't try to stop it.  
  
Miss Tron had given him 2000 zenny to blow. Special gift. Bink was elated. If he did it right... he could get two MD's and have a few bucks left over. The door swung open, a small bell jangling delicately over the door. The owner raised his head, smiling with professional friendliness. Odd little kid. The store owner turned back. Bink obediently left his backpack behind and wandered into the aisles, his eyes scanning the shelves. A squeak took his voice as he flicked a hand out to the samplers, placing the bulky headphones on the back shelf into his head. He had picked right. Moving through the racks, he reached out and plucked forth a mini disk, flipping the container and scanning the back. Reading the code under the scanner, the strains of music flickering through his head...   
  
The store owner looked up, suddenly smiling as the small, odd child came up to the counter. Laying two of the mini disk containers on the counter, the odd little child beamed, all the way out the door. Shaking his head, the store owner turned back to his magazine.  
Bink shuffled along, his eyes scanning the booths. He had 230 creds left. A stall caught his eye, the fruit out front gleaming enticingly. Bink stalled, staring at the booth for a few moments. A nice, fresh, sweet apple would be perfect... he briefly considered pirating it- but shook his head. This was his break. He'd do it right, no sense in making trouble now. Making up his mind, he nodded, approaching the booth. Looking over the apples, he selected one. it shone, perfectly gold/red and matte of skin, that buff warmth of ripeness. Hefting the apple, he approached the booth owner- and stopped.   
  
Bink fidgeted under the merchant's stare. The man hadn't said anything yet, hadn't made a move... but his gaze was withering with suspicion and apathy. "You. You're no kid. I know you- I've seen you... you're one of those god damned pirates ruining our lives aren't you!?" Bink shrunk from the angry man, scared. He leaned hard into a vegetable cart, the feathery leaves of a celery stalk tickling his face. He listened, hating the tone, angry at the man for hating him so. "Damn pirates... and now you're going to steal from me.?!? I'm calling the police."  
  
"OH come ON!" The merchant abruptly jumped back, startled, as the small ch- no- not child, the little mechanical creation, suddenly slammed both hands to the edge of one of the permanent grocer's cart, causing the entire thing to jump. Waving the apple, the small servbot railed at him in an affronted, insulted and frustrated tone. "I CAME here to get something to eat! I'm PAYING for it, don't you see?? Look! LOOK! I do right this time, going out of my way to do the RIGHT THING... and what do you do?? THREATEN me?!? Leave me alone. Leave me alone!!! This is my only off day. This is probably going to be the ONLY break I'm gonna get for two weeks! Maybe a month!! This is my only break.... I swear you have me thrown in jail and I'll FIND YOU! I'll make it hell for you guys as long as I'm here! I only asked to do the right thing and buy- BUY- an apple from you! And you threaten to have me thrown in a cell for it? FOR DOING GOOD!? DAMN YOU." Shaking, he slapped the credit disk down in front of the greengrocer, his eyes hurt and angry. "Take it. Scan it. And let me get the HELL out of here... don't call the police. Not for doing the right thing. I could have stolen the apple and been away before you knew it was gone. Doubt me. Go ahead. But instead... instead I decided no- I was going to do it right this time. Do the right thing. Avoid trouble. And everything would be all right. And you threaten to arrest me. I'm going now. Don't you dare call the police on me. Don't ruin my only day off..." The merchant watched the little servbot stride down the center of the walk, pushing open the door to downtown. Shaking his head, he leaned back, staring off into space with a thoughtful frown across his face.  
  
Bink huffed, glancing down at the apple in his hands. And sighed, letting the air out of his respirator. Shaking his head, he winced. He hated what had just happened. Not so much about what the guy had said, the anger or threats. That bugged him. Most people were usually so nice with him. He was unhappy at the thought of someone just hating him for what he was. He was angry and afraid of himself. Yelling, swearing... Miss Tron would hate him, he thought with a mental wail. He shook his head, determined. He'd confess it all to Miss Tron. and accept his punishment. Filled with reassurance, determination and steadiness, he pushed open the door open to the Downtown District.  
  
People moved sluggishly along the street, their frames bearing a strange hopeless kind of nervousness, eyes dulled and not wanting to see, to see the smoking legacies of the battle around them. Some merely went about the business, determinedly not looking at the burned and blackened craters marking the walls and streets of Downtown. Bink silently took off his backpack, pushing the apple and MD's deep into the depths and began striding down the street in the odd little shuffling walk of servbots. A pair of citizens wandered nearby, heads together; their voices drifted on the wind, coming to him, soft but animated. "Did you hear? MissRoll donated 20,000 zenny towards the rebuilding of downtown!" The other voice snapped out, thick with ire. "As SHOULD she! Imagine! Using a ROCKET LAUNCHER in Downtown?" the words drifted back and forth... Bink turned, staring off into the distance down the pockmarked street, CPU running several different thoughts at once. 'MissRoll is here... that might be a problem. Just because she let us go before, doesn't mean she couldn't get unpleasant now...' he shivered slightly at the intimidating girl. The street looked like it had been on the receiving end of a meteor shower, he thought, as he progressed along it's blackened, smoking length, the acrid scent of burned and vaporized asphalt drifting across his chemoreceptor sites.  
Eyes wide, Bink strode down the center palisade of Downtown, the black, crusted waves of half melted asphalt crunching under the round metal plates of his feet. The blackened dust smears under his foot, a small sifting of ash-like debris spills across the top of his foot, tarnishing the metal a little as he moves to avoid a rather spectacularly dangerous looking pothole, the gleam of dull metal pipes glinting from deep within the wounded street like the white flash of bone. His eyes taking on a concerned tilt, Bink reaches the center of the street. It was a little sad, seeing the town trashed like that... The smoke rising slowly from the towering form of the half collapsed library, the fallen majesty form tilted at a slight but precarious angle. Tilting his head upwards, he looks up and up, the form of a bird wheeling in the dark, overcast sky.   
  
Two sets of red armored fingers sink comfortably onto his shoulders, clamped tight but not painful as, tapping the servbot's shoulder with a calm, steady rhythm, Roll gazes serenely and rather regretfully at the crippled silhouette of the library, smoking pathetically in the dimmed light. Looking down with bemused serenity, Roll slowly runs a red metal armored fingertip around the edge of Bink's peg, tracing the edge of the gray metal on the servbot's head. Rubbing along the servbot's left side, she holds it steady, not intending to let it out of hand.   
  
The panicked gasps fluttering in his metallic throat gradually still as Bink's CPU slowly calms and settles, the random thoughts spinning themselves out as the feeling of the caressing fingertip gently massaging the sensitive metal of his top slowly calms the panic fluttering in his chassis. Looking up into Roll's composed face, he blinks, the sound of shifting facial expressions rising a little above the gently moaning wind.   
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"M- Miss Roll...?"  
  
"Answer now or face deactivation pirate- I'm not going to abide any of the Bonne's criminal antics-"  
  
Raising a pincer, he clatters it a few times, answering in a reassuring voice, eyes on hers. "I'm on a break Miss Roll."  
  
Mouth quirked in a wry smile, she asks. "What's your name robot?"  
  
"Servbot- and it's Bink. Miss Roll." Adding the last bit in a respectful voice, he looked up to her.  
  
Roll looks down at him, her face losing a little of the sternness of her expression, her mouth twisting a little into a smile. Her hands still tighten as he shifts, a little uncomfortable under her authorative grip. After a moment, her fingers ease on his metal, and he calms, the pressure sensors easing off as he straightens with a little shift. Roll's hands caress across his small, teal hued shoulder once more, fingers gently patting his back. "Miss Tron did well... making you all... she did a good job."  
  
Touched, Bink's face shifts into a gladdened smile. "Thanks Miss Roll... I'll be sure to tell her that."  
  
"Bink?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Roll's grin turned wry, her mouth twisting in amused, joking threat. "You do and I'll track you down and reprogram you to serve drinks at the mayor's parties."  
  
Bink smiled, not wholly sure of her kidding or not but a bit too thankful of her good humor to care. Moving a few steps away from the technical adversary of the Bonne family, he smiles waveringly, moving off down the street. Voice monotonous, he rattles off in his tinny voice, saluting politely with a pincer as he says "Well Miss Roll it's been a pleasure surprisingly but time I hardly even have is burning I must truly be going now good luck with the blue boy..." Bink stills slightly, his expression sad as he sees Roll's face go slack, cold of emotion. Rubbing his forearm with one pincer, he looks at the ground and, hesitant of intrusion, merely bows, moving away from the silent Roll. As he moves away, almost out of hearing range, he slows, pauses, and stops; moving back swiftly, he reaches out, quite boldly, and takes Roll's blood hued armored hand. She looks down at him, slightly bemused, mostly brooding unhappily, as he says in a low, serious voice. "Miss Roll? The Bonne family... is here if you need us. Good luck Digger." Roll merely smiles, running a couple fingers over Bink's head. As Bink moves away, her voice washes over him, pulling a shy smile to his face. "And to you... Digger." 


End file.
